When the Sky Shakes
by vanillapeachtea
Summary: Matthew is scared of thunder. Lars doesn't know. How long will it take him to figure it out? Oneshot.


**A/N: This fic is one of the oneshots that I did for a collection, but they have been glitching out lately so I'm posting them separately as well! This fic is going to be a NedCan fic. I don't know very much about Netherlands, but I'm giving it a try! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

~V~P~T~

Matthew flinched again as he heard the thunder crash above. He was lying curled up in his bed, wrapped in his plethora of blankets like a shivering cocoon. He had been here for about an hour; Lars had gone out with Bella, Lovino and, much to the Dutch nation's frustration, Antonio. Matthew had decided that he would stay home, as he had checked the weather forecast earlier in the day and didn't want to humiliate himself by having a panic attack in public over something as elementary as thunder. He knew it couldn't hurt him, but he had been petrified by the very thought of it ever since he was a child.

Francis used to comfort him and make it almost bearable, but once he moved to Arthur's house, there was no more comfort on the stormy nights that frightened him so. He tried once, wandering into The Brits room in the wee hours of the morning, a blanket wrapped around his trembling shoulders and trailing on the floor, but Arthur had simply told him to bugger off. Since then, Matthew had learned to deal with the fear himself. He had thus far even managed to keep it from Lars by settling downstairs in the corner of their couch and attempting to relax there; usually failing.

He gasped and burrowed even deeper into his warm solace as lightning briefly lit up the room, the thunder following seconds later. He had conflicting feelings about whether or not he was wanted Lars to come home, as he definitely could do with some comfort, but also didn't want the larger man to think he was being childish. He knew that Lars would be angry with him for not telling him, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that he would refuse to ease his fears and think badly of him, just like with Arthur.

To Matthews dismay, he heard the telltale sound of the front door being opened downstairs. Panicking, the Canadian man unrolled from his cocoon and speedily spread the coverers over the rest of the bed. When he heard the heavy footsteps of his lover ascending the stairs, he quickly flipped himself onto his stomach and wrapped his arm around his pillow as tightly as he could; his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he had of the soft blue object and his face turned slightly in to shield his face slightly.

Lars reached their bedroom and opened the door, allowing a stream of light to enter the darkened room. He paused at the foot of the bed, presumably looking at Matthew to see if he was asleep. There hadn't been any thunder for a little while so Matthew could fake being asleep well enough by deepening his breathing and keeping still. The amber eyed nation apparently was fooled by this and moved on into the bathroom to prepare for sleep.

When he had finally settled into bed beside Matthew and settled into a comfortable position, Matthew slowly and carefully shifted onto his side, his back to his lover and gripped the side of their quilt tightly in his arms.

All was well for the next ten minutes or so and Matthew had just barely began to relax before the next astonishingly loud crack of thunder broke the silence in the room, it had been the loudest one yet, and Matthew started trembling violently, his heart smashing against his chest. He hoped desperately that his bedpartner was asleep, although if he was he would have been very impressed that he was managed to sleep though what sounded eerily similar to a gunshot in their bedroom.

The next couple rounds of thunder came much more quickly and effectively reduced Matthew to a quivering mess beneath his bed sheets. He was desperately trying to contain his petrified whimpers, but a few still managed to slip through. Every time Lars would shift, the blue eyed man would freeze, not allowing himself to move until he was certain that Lars had settled fully back down. He was waiting until he was certain The Dutch Nation was asleep before he would slip downstairs, raid the blanket closet, and reroll himself back into a little Canadian burrito. A very scared Canadian burrito. Another loud crash sounded and Matthew could feel himself begin to tear up, twitching slightly and giving off a whimper, he turned his head into his pillow to sniff as quietly as he could, desperate to hide his tears from his lover.

He froze when he felt the man next to him shift, and the bed dipped directly behind him. A large arm came around him and a warm chest pressed flush against his back. His face settled into the crook of Matthews neck and there were a couple beats of silence with the smaller of the two lying as still as he could and the taller breathing warm air onto his soft neck.

"Matthew, what's wrong?"

Opening his mouth to respond seemed pointless, as soon as he did, all that came out was a broken little sound; his throat was too filled with tears to respond. Lars sat up, lifting Matthew up with him, and gently stroked his soft hair out of his face. Pressing closer, Matthew hid his face in Lars' strong chest and wrapped his arms tightly around him, his fists gripping tightly to the silky green nightshirt Lars wore to bed. Neither spoke for a while; both content just to sit in each other's embrace. The silence was only broken by the occasional crash of thunder that sounded. Each crash and each flinch that Matthew made in response made the bigger man feel even worse for not noticing what was now completely obvious to him. It made him wonder how Matthew had managed to keep this a secret from him for so long. He didn't particularly care about that right now however, when he had an armful of scared, shaking boyfriend.

"Relax, Mattie. Just relax." Matthew was glad that he didn't try to tell him that it was okay, because it really wasn't okay. Not to him. He rubbed his cheek against the silky material of Lars' shirt and gave a small smile, though the Dutch man couldn't see it, and he closed his eyes; trying to block out the sound from outside, the rain pounding against the windows, the thunder smashing the dark night sky. He surrounded himself with only the smell and feel of the other man.

He turned his head and pressed his nose into Lars' collar, his breath slowing as he relaxed. "S-sorry…" He stuttered out quietly; turning his face away slightly in embarrassment. He didn't want to burden Lars with his foolish fears.

"Don't be ridiculous. I love you. The only thing that bothers me is that you kept this to yourself. How long Matthew? Have you been afraid of the rain?"

"I-I'm not afraid of the r-rain… It's the thunder" Matthew pushed back slightly on Lars' shoulders and stared hard at their comforter, the tears still dripping from his eyes.

"Matthew… how long?" Knowing that Lars wasn't a particularly patient person, Matthew decided that the best way to do this was to be straight about it. Get it over with, like tearing off a band aid, only… slowly.

"for as l-long as… I can remember." The Canadians sentence was broken by long spaces of silence as he tried to calm himself down; his throat was hurting from trying to hold back his tears.

"Why didn't you tell me? I want to help you" Lars looked mildly hurt, so the blue eyed man quickly reached up and pulled their faces together, resting his forehead against the others. He slowly responded, with the occasional hiccup puncturing his sentence.

"I didn't want to… b-bother you with it."

Looking surprised, Lars pulled back "You wouldn't have been a bother! I love you… you know that. It bothers me to know that you're suffering, and I'm not there to protect you."

Shifting suddenly, Lars surprised Matthew by tilting them both over and lying back onto the bed; Matthew wrapped in his arms and pressed up against him. He reached down and pulled the covers up over them, tucking them in just under his and Matthew's chin. Lars pressed a gentle kiss to the pink lips in front of him, winding his and Matthew's legs together.

"You aren't a bother… not at all. Just trust me please. I love you too much to let you suffer alone."

Matthew gave a weak nod and buried himself harder against Lars, whispering a soft, yet genuine, I love you in return. Thunder was still terrifying to him, he didn't doubt that it always would be, but if was so much easier to handle with his lover. Francis had certainly helped ease his fears, but he couldn't compare to Lars' strong protective love.

As the storm raged on he wasn't happy, far from it in fact, but he was content enough. He had Lars. He had love.

~V~P~T~

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a review please! \^_^/**


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